


Promises Lost, Promises Kept

by Yuni30



Series: Nymph Hugs [2]
Category: Ni no Kuni
Genre: Acceptance, Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Canonical Character Death, Death, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuni30/pseuds/Yuni30
Summary: He wasn't the only one lost that day. But he wasn't the only one who found solace in brotherly comfort.(This work can also be found as a drabble chapter for "Nymph Hugs" over on Fanfiction.net along with its sibling works.)





	Promises Lost, Promises Kept

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Like a Brother](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/363282) by Wherever Girl. 



> Major spoiler warning. Unless you don’t care about me spoiling the twists and turns, complete the Hamelin arc all the way through first. I beg of you. 
> 
> Hey-oh! I wanted to write about a conundrum I found in the game: Why the heck doesn’t younger Marcassin pick up on who Swaine really is? At first, I thought that maybe, just maybe, he couldn’t understand what Swaine was saying in the scene where the Emperor dies, but his vocals- at first- are really clear. You can hear him call the Emperor “father” easily, so… why hasn’t past Marcassin picked up on it or at least started to theorize? It really bothered me so I did what all fans do when presented with plot holes: write fanfics to fill those in with the best substitute content tar we can get. 
> 
> Heh. Get it? “Content Tar”? Cause a lot of roads are made of asphalt or tar? I should have come up with the names of places in the games… Anywho. On to depressing scenes later resolved with hugging. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This game is a good game. I thank those who worked on it and gave me something to write about on this site while my inspiration waned on one of my other pieces.

The jarring sound of mournful sobs filled the palace. The child prince, who had fallen to his knees, turned his head to Esther, burying his head in her arms. While the man he barely knew continued to cry over the Emperor, Marcassin silently sobbed as well, clinging to the girl beside him.

Their thieving friend's cries of anguish soon softened, his voice gone as he choked on his own breath. His shoulders shook as his grief consumed him. While it was true that he had heard of his father's death long before that day, nothing could have prepared him. After all the years of being separated from his father and his brother, he finally had had a second chance to prove himself.

He should have seen it coming, but the truth was, the letter never said how long after he had left.

He thought he had more time- more time to make things right between him and his father; more time to help the younger version of his brother avoid losing his belief; more time to, perhaps, confront Shadar on his father's behalf. All of these regrets rushed to him in his broken state.

Soldiers rushed into the room. "You there," a guard demanded, gesturing to the young wizard and the grieving man. "Away from the Emperor." The guard turned to Esther and Marcassin. "If your business is through-"

"N-no! Let them- let them stay," the young prince ordered shakily, sensing the what the guard was about to demand. He was standing again, albeit shakily, eyes still wet with tears. "They're the only ones who heard my father's last words." He turned to the thief, who was too grief-stricken to pay attention and nodded. "W-we can't just throw them out after this…," he said, stammering again at the sight of his father's corpse, tears rolling again down his face.

The thief saw, from the corner of his tear-blurred vision, Oliver kneel down and put his hand on his shoulder. "It's time to go, Swaine," the young wizard said softly, solemnly. Swaine looked up, his vision still wet with tears, only to be greeted by a handful of guards. Their hands were gripping their spears. They luckily were in the "standby" position, but that could change with a shift of their hand, he knew.

The thief nodded, and he stood, briefly. His strength left him and he nearly collapsed, the day and the recent trauma taking its toll. The young wizard caught him and supported his friend by wrapping his arm under the older man's, resting his hand on his back.  


The blonde and the child prince stood to the side, letting them pass as the pair slowly made their way out of the chamber. As they left, Swaine caught a glimpse of his brother's younger tear-stained face.

He realized then that he had left his brother all alone as Gascon. He had left him to this tragedy, to the weight of being emperor. He remembered wanting to go home when he heard the news, but there wasn't any way home for him at that time and that he had to trust in his younger brother to take care of the Empire. Even so, the guilt had caused another rush of tears to stream down the usually seemingly unconcerned thief's face.

They made it to one of the guest rooms- the one the thief had insisted on having. He claimed it was for the sake of comfort, but considering what they knew now, it was because it was closest to rooms of the royal family. He could easily monitor Gascon and gauge the next event based on his memory. At least, that's what the young wizard theorized.  


Swaine let go of Oliver and stumbled to the luxurious guest bed, sitting on the edge of it. He only looked down for a while, not saying a word. After what felt like hours, he finally shuffled off his buckled brown shoes and laid down on the bed, rolling over to shield himself from the light of the hall, forgetting his wizard friend was there.

"…Do you need anything? Water," Oliver asked, concerned about his companion.

"I need you to leave. Just leave me alone, Oliver," he snapped quietly, his voice still hoarse from earlier.

Oliver nodded, understanding his friend's plight. He walked out, only closing the door part way. He leaned into the gap just enough to let him know to send for him if he needed something and that he was leaving the door gapped for that express purpose.

Swaine couldn't have cared less what the boy did. He just wanted to rest in solitude. Perhaps he'd feel better the next day.  


~*~*~

He didn't know it was possible, but he felt worse. He caught word from the guards that they had taken the Emperor's remains to the family mausoleum.

Swaine had lived fatherless for years but being there at the side of his deathbed had opened his eyes. It had never really hit him until now that he would never be able to see his father again.  


He sat on the edge of his bed all morning. The thief was worried about his brother, how he would cope for all of those years without him- this time's version of him. He knew the letter telling of his father's death wouldn't reach him until months after that day. He was probably already in Castaway Cove by now, trying to figure out how to live on his own.  


"H-hello…," a soft, shaky voice called from his door.  


He looked up to see young Marcassin, tears once again rolling down his cheeks. Swaine put on a brave face, despite his own grief. "M-Marcassin." He cleared his throat, getting whatever had built up since yesterday out. "What is it," he asked, concerned for the child's emotional state. His instincts as the younger prince's older brother hadn't waned much, even after fifteen years.  


The child took this as an invitation to come in, sitting on the edge of the bed in the small room. He took the sleeve of the thief's disheveled tattered green coat with one hand, a tear streaking down his face.  


"Swaine," he began, whispering. "I'm scared. I don't know what to do without father."  


On closer inspection, the thief noticed bags under Marcassin's already puffy eyes. "You couldn't sleep, could you? This must have been bothering you all night."  


The young prince nodded, biting his lower lip. He turned suddenly and embraced Swaine, crying into his sleeve. "I miss Gascon. Why isn't he here? He said he'd be here whenever I need him no matter how far away," he cried out, gripping the surprised thief's shirt.  


Swaine was speechless for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure how to approach this. Without really thinking about it, he rubbed the child's back in a comforting motion. "Hey, now. Keep your chin up. He'll stay true to his word," the thief said softly, placing his hand gently on the back of his younger brother's head.  


"But…" Marcassin sniffled. "He promised." It was at this point Swaine realized his brother hadn't quite understood. Then again, how could he? He was still a small child.  


"I think…," he began, shifting so he could look his brother in the eye. "I think he meant that he'd always be thinking of you." The thief gripped the back of his messy brown hair in thought, unsure of how to explain his promise from fifteen years back. "It's hard to explain, Marcassin."  


"He said that 'whenever I need him he'd come back'," the young prince whimpered, wiping tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his royal robes. "Surely, he's heard of… of what happened to father." The prince began to cry again, this time not pressing into the man next to him.  


Swaine sighed a forlorn sigh. "Oh, Marcassin," he whispered, looking down at the pig nose decorated rug on the metal floor. He wanted to tell him who he really was. He hadn't put the pieces together. Perhaps with all that had happened, it hadn't dawned on the young prince. The thief understood- the entire ordeal was a lot to process for a child his age. It was probably for the best he didn't say.  


Deciding that his brother would figure it out when they returned to their time, he pulled the distraught Marcassin into a gentle hug. Swaine felt the younger form of his brother go rigid in shock. "You can relax. It's alright," he soothed, setting his own grief aside for his brother.  


The warmth of the thief reminded the child of his older sibling. Yes, their father would sometimes comfort him when he was alive, but his brother, despite his attitude, would always be there for him in his father's absence. Whenever he ran to him frantically in tears because of an issue- whether it be something he messed up or a spell he couldn't handle, Gascon would comfort him just like this.  


Marcassin gripped Swaine's shirt, sobbing quietly into it. Eventually, the sobs subsided, leaving sniffling in their wake. The two sat there for a while in silence, neither aware of how long.  


During this time of silence, the thief thought hard about the day he left and the promise he had made. He had left something more than just an oath, he recalled. He was still exhausted from the day before. He closed his eyes, gently resting his head on his little brother's. It hit him then- his old sword.  


Eventually, the young prince pulled away, grateful for the man's empathy. "W-will, he come back soon," the child asked, still slightly shaking.  


The thief smiled sadly at the prince. "He will be back. I can promise you that. It's just…" He shifted uncomfortably. "It'll be a good while before so. He'll look different, but he'll still be your loving brother all the same."  


The boy looked down. "Then what do I do, Swaine?" His voice was full of desperation. "I know I'll have tutors and guides to help run the Empire, but I won't have any friends…" He paused, realizing that his brother _was_ his only friend. He had no mother to help guide him. "…or family to turn to."  


Marcassin felt a strong hand pat his shoulder "Be strong: as your father would want you to be. It won't be easy, I'm sure, but you'll get through it all somehow," he heard Swaine encourage. "You've still got that sword he gave you, yeah?"  


The kid looked up and nodded. He saw the man smirk. "That's what he meant. You'll always have a part of him with you, protecting you from harm no matter when and where. After all, it's the Hamelin way to go it on your own, isn't it?" Marcassin nodded again, reminded of what his father had said to his brother. "You'll make them both proud. I know it."  


A genuine confident smile graced his young face and the child ruler nodded affirmatively once more. He paused, the smile slightly fading. He was studying the man's face.

The thief, having been a common criminal, quickly assumed he was looking for any sign of dishonesty- he was being completely sincere with his brother. He was suddenly tackled with a hug from the child, a grunt escaping him.  


"Th-thank you…" The prince felt like his prayers had been answered. He wasn't quite certain, but he felt a familial connection to the man he sought comfort from. Perhaps he was his older brother from the future- he didn't know. Either way, he was happy to hear such encouragement from one so close to his father.  


The prince let go and got up, heading to the door. He turned back to look at Swaine. "I'll do my best for the Empire. I'll make Gascon and father proud like you said. I won't let Shadar hurt anyone else!"  


"There you go!" The thief was rewarded with a lighthearted chuckle and the prince ran out.  


He looked at the ceiling. Helping his brother become stronger in these harrowing times had helped him grieve in a way. He fell back onto the bed, his back against the mattress, smirking cockily. "Sometimes, father, it takes a team effort to become stronger. That's what you meant, wasn't it- those final words? Heh. Don't you worry, old man. Hamelin's in good hands." He put a sleeved arm over his eyes, his smirk becoming a small content smile, happy to have helped his brother- happy to have stayed true to his word.

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Coco. The song "Remember Me" heavily inspired me to write it. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch the movie. Please. I refuse to write fanfiction for it because I don't possibly know how I could even approach such loveliness. I think a lot of these will be fueled by that movie. Why? I don't know… something about it makes me want to write sad to eventually happy fluff fics about Swaine.
> 
> Shout out to Wherever Girl over on Fanfiction.net. This part was partially inspired by her fic, "Like a Brother". Thank you for being awesome, WG! Sorry, I don't read more of your stuff. ^^;
> 
> Next Drabble? How about something mostly happy. Swaine needs to be happy with how many depressing things I've thrown his way in this series.
> 
> Any way. Please write a review, I'd like to know what you all think. If you have any requests, let me know.


End file.
